It was late afternoon by the time I returned to the office. 

The shower had washed away the blood, but not the weight of the day. Liam’s last words still pressed against my ribs like something lodged there.

The building felt hollow. Only a handful of employees remained, their keyboards tapping softly through the glass walls. My heels echoed louder than usual.

I slowed when I reached Jack’s office. The light was on.

I wasn’t sure what to do with the note I received, but for the time being, my team and I would have to meet somewhere else to discuss it. For now, I’ll act as if everything is normal.

After a brief knock, his voice drifted through the frosted glass. “Come in.”

“Good afternoon, Director. I wanted to update you on today’s developments.”

He didn’t look up. His eyes stayed fixed on his monitor as he gestured toward the couch.

I sat, folding my hands in my lap to keep them from fidgeting.

I gave him everything. Alonzo’s scene. The bloody message. Liam’s warning. His collapse.

When I finished, he finally leaned back in his chair.

“So, we don’t know Moore’s condition?”

“Not yet.”

He tapped his fingers together thoughtfully.

“Well. Regardless, this is progress.” A pause. “Recruiting Eric was the right decision.”

My spine stiffened.

“Sir, I don’t think that’s fair.”

That earned me this attention.

“What isn’t?”

“To imply that progress hinges solely on him.”

He studied me with that cool, detached expression he’d worn ever since the wharf.

“Then how do you explain the developments since his arrival?”

The question landed heavier than it should have. I had no immediate answer.

Because he wasn’t wrong. But he wasn’t entirely right either.

“It’s the timing,” I said carefully. “We would’ve reached these points, regardless.”

Jack shook his head slowly.

“That kind of thinking is why you’re always falling behind, Selene.”

The words cut deeper than they had any right to.

“Support him. Make sure he has what he needs. He may very well be the key to solving this.”

And what am I? But I swallowed it.

“If that’s all,” he said, already turning back to his screen.

Dismissed.

Outside his office, I stood there a moment longer than necessary.

Ever since the wharf incident, something between us had fractured. I still didn’t know what.

The ignorance felt like standing in a courtroom without knowing the crime.

But now, with this seed of suspicion planted, if Jack were involved. Maybe his resentment towards me has to do with what happened at the wharf.

I forced myself forward.

Eric stood near his desk, sleeves rolled up, flipping through documents. Focused. Intent.

My chest tightened unexpectedly.

Hours ago, his arms were around me.

The memory replayed uninvited: the warmth of his chest, the steady pressure of his hold, the way he didn’t hesitate.

And I melted into it. I had wanted to stay there.

Heat crept up my neck at the thought.

I quickly turned toward my office—

“Hey, Eric!”

I froze.

Mia Anderson, an employee from the resources department, stood beside him, holding a flash drive.

“I’ve got the footage you asked for.”

“I told you not to call me by my first name while we’re working,” Eric replied evenly.

Her cheeks flushed. “Right. Sorry.”

She held the drive just out of reach as he moved to take it.

“I’ll give it to you if you promise to buy me coffee again!”

Again?

The word lodged under my skin.

Before I realized what I was doing, I stepped forward.

“Oh, Mia! I didn’t see you there.”

She straightened instantly. Professional.

“Ms. Ray. I was just delivering the footage Mr. Wolfe requested.”

Interesting how quickly her attitude changed.

I folded my arms loose.

“You two know each other?”

She smiled shyly. “I know his sister. She introduced us. He took us out for coffee. And lunch.”

Why does that bother me? We’ve known each other since childhood.

It was only coffee. It really shouldn’t matter.

She finally handed over the flash drive.

“Well, I’ll text you to set up the details.”

“Actually,” I interjected smoothly, “our workload is increasing. He may work overtime for the foreseeable future.”

Her smile dimmed slightly.

Eric didn’t look up from inserting the drive.

“Now, if there’s nothing else, Ms. Anderson,” I added gently.

She nodded and left.

Silence settled between us before my phone started buzzing. The hospital.

They stabilized Liam… barely. Severe internal damage, and his recovery was uncertain.

I relayed the information to Eric. His jaw tightened. I was unsure if it was because of what I had just told him or if it was because of what he was watching on his computer screen. Then he motioned me over.

“I think you should see this.”

The footage played. Kari sat across from Liam. Nervous… fidgeting. Then… she adjusted his cuffs. Routine, at least from an overhead angle. But from the side camera, my stomach dropped.

Her fingers lingered. Something small passed between their hands. It was subtle. Almost invisible. But it was there.

“There’s no way,” I whispered.

Eric enhanced the frame. Clearer now. A transfer, for sure.

“I know you’re close to her,” he said carefully, “but if she—”

“Don’t,” I cut in quietly. “No one is safe from suspicion.”

The words were heavy, feeling like betrayal. Kari wouldn’t. Would she?

There was a heaviness settling in my chest. First Jack and now Kari?

I turned toward my office, but Eric stopped me.

“And what was that about me working overtime?”

My pulse jumped. I had completely forgotten.

“That was… I just…”

He stepped closer.

“I couldn’t quite hear you, Moonie.”

That nickname. My face burned.

“Were you asking me out?”

I shoved him lightly, turning away.

“Don’t read too much into things.”

He chuckled softly. “I’m a detective. It’s literally my job.”

I escaped into my office and shut the door.

A second later, my phone buzzed.

7pm tomorrow. Romanicus Square. Dinner on me :).

I reopened the door.

“What is this?”

Without turning around, he replied, “My overtime plans, Detective Selene.”

I closed the door again, heart racing.

This is ridiculous. I am ridiculous. I pressed my palm against my chest, trying to steady it.

Less than a month and I had a crush like a teenager.

It’s just nostalgia. I told myself.

Childhood memories. Familiarity.

Not this. Not something deeper. Right…?

The answer was already there. And somewhere inside me, that terrified me more than anything we’d uncovered in this case. 

----------------------------------------------------

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Art: Petra Eggert